


What We Do to Forget

by LavaKenn



Category: Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim
Genre: Blow Jobs, Established Relationship, F/M, Oral Sex, Semi-Public Sex, Smut, Vaginal Sex, Wall Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-18
Updated: 2018-12-18
Packaged: 2019-09-21 20:47:43
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,769
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17050304
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LavaKenn/pseuds/LavaKenn
Summary: Sometimes things just really get to the Dragonborn, thankfully she has someone who can help her forget about the dangerous world around her for a short time.Just some Brynjolf and Female Dragonborn lovemaking. Nothing too kinky, but definitely very sweet.





	What We Do to Forget

Brynjolf was a lucky man. At least, that’s what he was thinking at the moment, being occupied with his love, the Guild Master of the Thieves Guild, and the Dragonborn of legends. It was almost silent, but for the smallest of gasps as the thief pressed herself to him, capturing his mouth with her own. They were currently pressed up against a not so secret corner of the cistern. There hadn’t been time to think, it was a physical necessity, he needed to be close to her like he needed to breathe, her absence having struck him like a physical pain. She looked at him with a breathless anticipation, breaking away from the kiss to pant, and mildly smile. Brynjolf took that chance to kiss down her neck, as she bared it in heady anticipation, careful not to leave any hickeys. Normally she was against such blemishes, and he would have not, had she not spoken softly.

“Bryn, please... mark me. I want to…” Her words trailed off, but he knew what she wanted, she wanted to forget, to be reminded of just him when she looked at herself, and not whatever she had seen out there in the wilds of Skyrim. And regardless, however soft her words were, whatever their meaning, he couldn’t help but feel it as a jolt up his spine, her words lighting a fire within him. He went back to her neck with a vigor, sucking and nipping all the way down, to her collarbone, noting with pride that he left some obvious above the neckline marks on her pale skin.

“So, lass, do you want to take this somewhere else or?” His question was only met with the shaking of her head, and her mouth to the red-headed thief's lips once more. They were fully in makeout territory, he mused, before being sharply reminded of exactly what was going down by a hand on his clothed erection. “Ah, love, patience. Give me a bit.” At her questioning whine, the having lost the will or ability to string words together, he took off his jacket and laid it gently on the ground of the cistern. The Dragonborn seemed to get the memo quick, lying down on it, and pulling off her clothing, and by the gods, he was lucky she was wearing just a simple set of armor. In one quick motion he had divested her of her undergarments, and with a cocky smirk that seemed to leave her breathless by itself, he went down on her. This at least was something they had done before, their business not leaving time for much more than a quick fuck or blow, or eating her out in the Thieves headquarters several times.

She murmured his name, threading her hand through his hair, eyes already closed in bliss, as he worked his mouth and tongue. It wasn’t so often that the sharp-tongued thief lost all of her carefully cultivated ability to speak, but it did happen quite often in his presence. Suddenly, she snapped taught like whipcord, thighs trembling, and he knew he’d brought her to the peak for what would be the first of many times. “Lass, what do you-” was all he managed to get out before she gave him a look, and he positioned himself back between her thighs with barely a thought. He’d heard the legends of the Dragonborn's powers which included high levels of stamina, and while he had never thought that he would be the one to test out the legends for himself, she’d proven that her libido was relentless and that it took quite a bit to tire her out. Obviously, watching her get progressively more wrecked with each orgasm was quite the side bonus.

Eating her out with practiced ease, he would have been quite happy to just continue like that, except for she, sooner than he thought she would have liked, pulled his head away. Brynjolf looked at her, in some mild confusion, until she climbed up on his lap, back pressed against him. He quickly switched track, to his hand, lightly, teasingly fingering her while his thumb worked at her clit. She rolled her head back, kissing him, lightly brushing her lips across his jawline. A second finger, then, and she twists around, locking lips with him as if her life depended on it, uncaring of the fact that moments before his mouth had been on her slit. He captures her moans, low things, disregarding that they could be caught at any moment. Then, she clenched down hard on his probing fingers, and he realized he’s brought her to orgasm for the second time in as many minutes. Her head lolled back, away from his mouth again, and she panted lowly. It takes her more time to bounce back from this one, stuck in the tremors of coming again, but eventually, she manages words.

“My love, my heart…” she mutters, removing herself from his lap to work at his belt buckle, and he couldn’t bring himself to refuse her again, no matter how much he wanted to build her up. What he had expected was her to lower herself onto his cock, it was usually customary. But instead, she got on her hands and knees, and licked a stripe up his exposed dick, before gently taking him into her mouth. It was his turn to thread a hand in her hair, carding it through the short locks as she bobbed up and down. Gently raking his nails on the other hand down her neck, and along her spine, he was rewarded with a low moan, the sensation on his cock adding an interesting twist to the blowjob.

“Ah, lass, you’re doing so well.” At his praise, one of her hands snaked down between her legs, to finger herself at the same pace she was sucking him off. He decided to continue down that track, loving what just his words made her do. “Love, you’re so beautiful like this. You’re doing such a good job.” he murmured, and he swore she just about swooned. She continued to suck his dick, moving surely of herself, occasionally taking it all in her mouth, before pulling up and swirling her tongue around the head. He watched as her hand made a furious pace, and then, she stopped, popping off his dick to look at him, her lips red, and her eyes blissed out and pleading. He knew what she wanted, knew what happened every time praise came up in their fucking. “You’re my good girl. Come for me, love.” and she did, shuddering weakly, her other arm giving out under her.

He easily pulls the Dragonborn up, losing himself in the sounds she was making momentarily. Her hair stuck up and frizzed out where he had run his hand through it, and he grinned again. “So, what do you want, my heart?” She gasped, gripping her hands on his shirt by his shoulders, and mumbled closely in his ear. “I want to take you, Bryn. Please... please.” It was as if he could feel himself harden more at those words if it was possible with how turned on he was already. She shifted, to face him fully, and aligned herself with his dick before sliding herself down on it slowly, to the hilt. They were chest to chest, face to face, her legs wrapped around his back. He caught her mouth with his again, with a muttered “My love.” as she set the pace, slow and steady, almost lifting off of him before jutting her hips down again.

Her self control was admirable, that she could still manage that when she had gone too soft whimpers captured in their kiss, and arms flung across his shoulders. “Ah... Brynjolf, please.” That seemed to be the words she could make, his name and begging. He decided to tease her, as much as he could and stilled her hips with his hands. She whined, a low upset sound, and moved her mouth to his neck, sucking and biting, anything to get him to start. He took pity on her after a few more seconds, removing his hands to thread them up under her shirt, leaving what would end up being long red lines with his fingernails. She had taken the opportunity to pick up the pace, moaning softly into his neck. He was surprised no one had seen them, they were not quiet, or hidden in much of anyway, but, sometimes fate wills it so you can fuck your lover on the floor of a guild hall and nobody sees.

She practically mewled, and then gave a hard nip to his collarbone, tightening around him. It was no surprise that he came, then, inside of her, because even given their history of spontaneous sexual encounters, he hadn’t thought to bring a condom. Not that she minded much, given the look that she was giving him, but he’d at least thought...oh. “You’re…” a pause, to pant, “still hard?” Or hardening, whatever the term may be. This happened occasionally, but not usually after a fuck. “Lass,” he started, trying to address her, but she was already getting up, ready for what came next, leaning against the nearby wall.

Standing up faster than he thought possible, he was there, ready to pound her, pressed against the wall. There was little foreplay this time, just insertion and the snapping of hips, them both chasing their final orgasmic high. She breathed heavily, her legs wrapped around him, chanting his name like it was keeping her grounded, as he breathed out sweet nothings in return. Brynjolf was coming before he really knew it, the pressure having built faster the second time, and she followed right after, sighing, finally boneless in her post-orgasm haze.

‘The real question’, he posed to himself, ‘is where to take her.’ Using the position they were still in, he extracted himself, tucking it back into his pants for some semblance of propriety, and hoisted her up. He would grab their discarded clothes in a bit. “Hmm? Bryn?” she managed to mutter, and he hummed reassuringly, a yes, as he took her back to her bed. He was about to leave, really, he was, to grab all of their things and bring them back, but she held tight to his shirt. “Don’t leave... please don’t leave me,” she whispered, in terror. And of course, he didn’t, lying down next to her until they both dozed off and, even in her sleep, she hadn’t stopped clinging onto him like he was the only thing keeping her present.

**Author's Note:**

> Follow my [Twitter](https://twitter.com/lavakenn) if you enjoyed!


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